The feeling I'll forget.

I know you're leaving but please just hold me and trick me into believing that you won't. My voice gets all croaky and ugly as I stumble up the stairs of words I can't reassemble into meaning. I focus my attention to the loose thread on your sleeve, it's so out of place on that white field of cotton. The irony is, this feels just like falling in love- I'm scared and lost and nobody can tell me what to do. Now all of our places will be tainted and all of our songs will be taunting melodies of yesterday's arrogant happiness- naive, un-expecting. Who knew heartbreak would come so soon?